"Y-You will regret this!" A dying man, lifted by one arm of his murderer, gritted his teeth and tried his best to reveal a mocking smile.
"Hmph! Your pride knows no bounds! For a member of a minor race, you sure do boast a lot. You are the last of your kin, no one will avenge you now!" A man with long red hair and muscular physique said as he tightened his grip. His golden eyes brightened as their vertical pupils contracted in anger. "This is what you get for messing with us!" He said before completely crushing the poor man's skull.
Looking at the pool of blood, satisfaction still fled the red-headed man. Maybe it was the man's last words, or his victorious attitude, but peace did not come to him. An air of wariness descended upon the dark cave, but there was nothing else to do.
"Tsk! Damned Primordians! Even in death, they are a pain in my tail!"
…
Meanwhile, a lonesome frail young man can be seen in a slave mine down the mountains of Levaho. Sweat filled his body, and dirt, his short black hair. His hands that were wielding a pickaxe were bruised and bloodied, clearly, he was forced to labor himself to death. With the ball of chain on his ankle, there was no escape.
"Forsaken by my own, where can I go?" he said to himself.
Outside the mine were rotten bodies of those who tried to run. Skeletons of those who dared to desire a life outside the mines.
"Powerless and alone, fleeing is not an option," he murmured as his pickaxe hit the stone.
"Tock!"
"Tock!"
"Tock!"
Was the singular sound that echoed through the chamber, a horrendous melody that signaled death and inevitability.
"There's no escape," he concluded.
However, just then, the wind blew inside. Chills were sent down his spine.
"How can the wind get here– ARGH!!!!" He cried as piercing pain radiated in his mind. Memories flooded his brain as if water was breaking through a dam.
"ARGHH!!" It was unbearable, but unstoppable, painful, but inevitable. He wanted to pass out, but the pain was too much. He wanted to die, but he couldn't move. He wanted it to stop, but there was nothing else he could do but endure.
In the end, when the pain finally stopped, he closed his eyes and collapsed.
He did not know how much time it passed, but
"Ugh!" The one who kicked him does.
"I had been away for only an hour, yet you are here sleeping like a log! Damned slave!" The guard wearing silver armor cried in frustration before kicking him once more.
"Ugh," he cried, covering his stomach. This time, a crowd had formed in the mine. A fresh batch of slaves can be seen watching the scene.
"Work!!" the guard commanded.
"Slave series ZAEL, this is your last warning! Death will come next," the man said.
Just then, a female guard came in, "Why not just kill him?"
"Hmph, let it serve as a reminder to them to work hard. Death is far as long as you work."
"What good is life here anyway?" A rebellious slave cried.
However, he had barely straightened his body before his head was smashed against the wall by the blue-haired female guard.
"Tsk. Calm your sour work down," the man said, but the female just ignored it.
Meanwhile, Zael who was now digging once more was trying his best to sort his thoughts. After a long while, clarity finally surfaced in his sky blue eyes.
'This is the Gift of Primordians, huh? Heavy is the fate. Why did it have to be me? Alas,' he sighed in his thoughts, still continuing to dig.
Every race in the world has a Gift that makes them special, Dragons can house Arcane, Elementals are Arcane. Titans can engrave Runes into their bodies, Dwarves into objects. Reapers are unaffected by Arcane, Savants, by Runes.
Each of the Twelve Major Races have such profound gifts that allowed them to dominate the world. Humans, a member of them, can learn any of the Gifts.
'Apparently, in the brink of extinction, this Gift would activate. The memories of my entire race are now of access to me. What kind of dumb Gift is this?' Zael thought. However, just then, a memory of an old Primordian scholar surfaced on his mind.
'Every race has a purpose. Fantastic, so the purpose of my race is for vengeance?' he thought as he recalled all of the pain and suffering that his ancestors and kin went through. Just then, a realization came to him.
'Purpose, it is not vengeance, but rather overhaul. The world, it needs to be shaken. These Twelve Major Races, they need to be broken,' Zael vowed as he toughened his heart.
The memories he had gained opened his eyes to the situation of the world, on how the strong not just prey on the weak, but exploit them and take any chance of turning their lives around to smithereens. Even in his own life, he is experiencing it first hand.
"This needs to stop," Zael said in conviction, gaining the attention of the two guards.
"What needs to stop?" The blue-haired guard asked with fierce eyes.
"This," Zael repeated as he tightened his grasp on the Red Arcane Crystal on his hand.
"Damn you, slave! What is that 'this'?!" She lashed out in anger, pulling her sword.
"This," he repeated once more.
"Damn you!!" Failing to hold herself back any longer, she dashed toward Zael, ready to cut his head off.
However, to everyone's surprise, the Arcane Crystal reacted to Zael.
{Horn of the Earth}
At his command, the earth below the guard transformed into a spike, catching her off guard, piercing her heart. In the blink of an eye, she died.
"Y-You! What in the world have you done?! You insane bastard!" The other guard cried with rage in his eyes. As tears started to form on them, he pulled his sword, but unlike his parter, he was on guard.